Still Aflame

I don't know what's about it.
And I don't know how to say this.
I don't know how to tell this.
 
Or how to explain it.
On one side is a dimlit light.
Strong,powerful firelight.
 
Near a strong,warm fireplace.
Yet at the same time,something feels cold.
Like a forming disease or mold.
 
The fire is slowly burning out.
But you can still see it well.
The fire still seems bright.
 
After everything I tell.
Long ago,a fire burned.
Screeches sounded and peace hurled.
 
At first,the fire was dimlit.
Strong,and full of color.
But over the years,it changed shape.
 
Like there was a liar or the venom of a snake.
The fire slowly burnt over the years.
But you could still see some of its color today.
 
Maybe it's not in its former glory.
But its end is not today.
I try to keep warm,and not become cool.
 
I try to keep the fire burning,but sometimes I feel like a fool.
The fire burned in the fireplace at night.
Warming everyone in sight.
 
The stars sure were sparkly that night.
Because it's like time passed by so fast,way after that fight.
Overtime,the fire started to become more dimlit as an ember.
 
I don't know when it happened,but probably in December.
It was a change of life or pace.
And the sight of a familiar face.
 
Long ago,lived a flame.
With no specific color or name.
But she became more colorful when he came.
 
And life was like a little game.
A game of all sorts of emotions,old and new.
And the sun slowly anew.
 
Like a moth to a powerful flame.
And you'll never be the same.
They say,keep the fire going to survive.

Like a bee in her hive.
One day,the flame may turn into a puddle of ink.
Yet,I still try.

Maybe one day,I'll grow wings and fly.
Feel the warmth and never cry.
I hope I don't have to say goodbye.

But I can't help but let out a sigh.
One day,I would be aflame once again.
And I won't feel any pain.

I won't get burned.
And my voice would be heard.